


Forever Thereafter

by DominusFero



Series: Tales From Demysarria [4]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Celestial, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angels, Established Relationship, Gay, Kissing, Love, M/M, Memories, Memory Magic, Memory Related, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:56:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27686570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominusFero/pseuds/DominusFero
Summary: Angels are not human. There is no emotion, no desire, no will to feel, to live, to breathe. Their existence is to serve and protect the four facets of reality. And yet, there is a mutual attraction, one that cemented over time. It seems Time and Space are more close than human may assume.
Relationships: Daniel/Jasper (Camp Camp)
Series: Tales From Demysarria [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991374
Kudos: 2





	Forever Thereafter

**Author's Note:**

> Jasper - Angel of Time  
> David - Angel of Life  
> Daniel - Angel of Space  
> Gwen - Angel of Death

Time is an illusion that encompasses the expanse of a singular existence while simultaneously matched with an infinite amount of coexistences. With time comes evolution through physical, metaphorical, emotional, and psychological means. With time comes the creation of a beginning, the journey of a passage, and ultimately, the conclusion of an end. Living beings may undergo a plethora of excitingly drastic or humbly minor alterations, either of the mind, body or soul. But can Time even affect the one who wields its power? Can Time affect those who live outside of the natural order? In what way can Time ever affect the immortal, the godly, the inhuman?

Time. Interesting how something that had defined the very being, the very core of a celestial being, was now nothing more than a measly verb to describe an event that circulates a period of revolution. But those so-called “revolutions” set a course for a series of events that transpired in such a path that the end results were both surprising but so very much wanted.

From these revolutions, the Angel of Time had found both its inner peace as well as it had obtained a life partner through its cohort, the Angel of Space. But its existence had not always been so blissful. The Angel of Time often found itself wondering how it had gotten to its current state. To be able to reach this level of tranquility, of security, it was unfathomable. The world in which it lived felt safer, homier, humbler. How had it been able to find such an affectionate, amorous, adoring partner in the Angel of Space? In an attempt to decipher its internal inquiries, the Angel found that reconnecting with past memories was the key to salvation.

The Angel's memories were viewed through glass orbs conjured from the inner being of the Angel. Through these glass orbs, all occurrences in the Angel's past could be reviewed.

Squaring its shoulders, the Angel brought its palms together. It then slid its left hand up and its right hand down, pointing each at a straight angle reminiscent of the hands of a clock posed at Hour 6 and Hour 12. The Angel then drew its hands in opposite directions to form a circle. A golden aura followed the movements, uniting the circle as one continuous shape. The golden aura then contracted, becoming a smaller circle. The circle then solidified into a sphere, covered in a pearly sheen. Gazing into the glassiness of the sphere, the Angel remembered the first time it ever experienced romantic affections. It was so unexpected, so unorthodox. But that made it all the more fulfilling.

Together the two Angels stood, only a short distance apart. Hand in hand, the Angel of Time raised its head, gazing longingly into the bright cyan colored eyes of the Angel of Space. Something in its chest tightened, bringing about a twisting, writhing pain, but a good pain, a desired pain. The faintest hint of bruising gaseous clouds bursting into carnation blooms laden with silvery stardust highlighted those splendid eyes. The Angel of Time could feel warmth percolating underneath the surface of its face, no doubt giving rise to a dark blush spreading across its cheeks. Simply locking eyes with the other Angel left it breathless, drowning in a pool of swarming, swirling emotions that it did not quite understand. Two hands held tight to its own, two hands rested loosely on its hips. Delicate fingers interlaced with rougher ones, the semi-transparent liveliness of the contained cosmos mixing with rose-tinted peach colored flesh. Softly, the faint  _ tick tick _ of the Angel of Time’s many inner machinations filled the silent air. 

Demysarria seemed to fade into nothingness as existence itself dissolved into nothing but a memory. Time came to standstill with not a single word to break the comfortable silence. All that remained was the Angel of Space, looking as heavenly as always. With every action the Angel of Space made, from every gentle touch the Angel blessed the other with, the Angel of Time found itself drowning. Drowning in an abyss of rose petals, cherry blossoms and pink skies. Drowning in a type of affection it had never experienced. It was honest, sincere and it felt so good to be swallowed up in the warmth it provided. Could this be the esteemed ‘love’ that humans often devoted so much of their lives to? Was this that ‘love’ that drove some to madness, led others to create wondrous melodies, poems and artistry? Was this that ‘love’ that garnered its own ceremonies? The Angel nearly melted at the thought, already having succumbed to the intoxicating aroma of the fated sickness. ‘Love’ wrapped its vibrant magenta tendrils over its limbs and tugged the Angel downwards into its sugar-scented maw, essentially drowning it in its fuschia-tinted form.

Torn from its daydream by a low gurgle, the Angel felt a lofty wetness slowly wrap itself around its head. Blinking owlishly in confusion, the Angel had to squint as liquid began to drip over its Time’s Eye. Heat blasted the side of its head, ruffling its hair. Lifting its gaze from straight out into the void of the realm, the Angel found itself gaping into the open mouth of the Angel of Space.

Recoiling in disgust, the Angel of Time tore itself away from the other. Thick saliva dripped from its body, falling to the grass with a revolting plop. It scrunched its nose in disgust, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. What in the infinite realms—horrendous, simply horrendous! What could have possibly possessed the other Angel to cause it to believe that being  _ tasted, _ of all things, was affectionate?? Eyes ablaze with a bruising fury, the Angel looked up at the other with a scowl and discontent. However, the pitiful look it received crushed whatever lingering repulsion the Angel may have felt. Cyan met neptune and gold once more, but these eyes were no longer lustful. There was sorrow, hurt, anguish and confusion, all intricately interwoven in one simple stare. Oh no, no, no, no—it had offended its love! Oh, of course the other wanted to display its affections in such a way, but, oh, it was so horribly vile yet oddly endearing. Swallowing its pride, the Angel began to reconsider its position. To be roped up in such a caring way, brought forth to see the true face of an Angel, it was an honor. The Angel of Space had no real inkling of any other form of affection and neither did the Angel of Time. So, it made sense in a way. Was it wrong to say that it felt...nice? Perhaps, perhaps it could remedy the situation. 

Hastily, the Angel softened its appearance, rushing over to the other. Taking two of its hands within its own, the Angel of Time drew near to the Angel of Space. Wearing a soft smile, the Angel stuck out its pink humanoid tongue, licking the cheek of the Angel of Space. Cyan eyes grew wide with excitement, pulling the other in for gentle nuzzles. A warm, magenta glow encased them both.

Drawing a finger across the surface of the orb, the color began to fade from a gilded orange to a deep, ravenous red. A memory of its first sensual awakening. Its innocence had been viciously slain, torn away in the heat of the moment. 

Reflected in the glass was a scene the Angel often recited each and every nightfall. The two were laying in the grass, the Angel of Time resting comfortably in the arms of its partner, the Angel of Space. The Angel felt delicate hands carefully slip under the clothing that obscured most of its body. Curious fingers caressed normal flesh, wandering with trepidation. Smooth patterns encircled ridgid pectorals, taking special care not to slip between the grinding gears of the mechanical half of the Angel of Time. A thumb brushed against a nipple— _ was that what that small, round, raised bit of its flesh was called? Was that what humans called it? _ —and the Angel tensed, a strange strangled sound escaping from between its lips. Its eyes went wide in horror, hands immediately clapping over its mouth to prevent any other unwanted sounds from leaking out. 

Almost in unison with the other, the Angel of Space sharply tore its hands out from under the fabric. Both Angels exchanged eye contact, equally bewildered at what had just occurred. The Angel of Time kept its hands over its mouth, its chest heaving from panic and shock. Timidly, the Angel of Space reached forward with one hand but rescinded the offer, its fingers curling in reluctance. The Angel began to turn but the other took hold of one of its hands. Its eyes were wide in pleading, wordlessly begging the other to stay. ‘Don’t leave me’, its eyes seemed to say. Its heart was full of hope but its eyes were full of need. The Angel of Space lingered, its expression one of confusion and uncertainty but it never pulled itself free. The Angel of Time noticed, drawing the hand it held closer. Maintaining eye contact, the Angel slipped the hand up its shirt, pressing the palm flat against its chest. The sensation tingled, sending icy waves up its spine so powerful each of its clock faces momentarily froze. Its breath hitched, eyes clamping shut. Absolutely exhilarating. Feeling so close yet being so different. The touch, the need, the desire. The Angel had never felt such a compulsion before. Whatever the meaning behind this form of behavior was, the Angel of Time was desperate to feel again.

Without warning, the Angel found itself on its back, head thrust into the lush grass. Its eyes fluttered open and the Angel ended up staring into eerily dark eyes. No longer bright cyan, these eyes were almost a charcoal grey. Absent was any form of humanity, not that these Angels had ever been human. In the furthest recesses of the Angel of Time's mind, it was actually a bit afraid. The ravenous look in the other Angel's eyes, it was a bit  _ too _ enthusiastic. But it did nothing to stop what was coming.

Hungry and full of carnal desire, the low grumble of the open razor-filled maw of the Angel of Space rumbled in the Angel of Time's ear. The sound resonated like a deep purr. Curling around the Angel of Time’s neck, the slick tongue of the other Angel slithered its way underneath the collar, its heavy, wet saliva soaking the fabric through. The Angel of Time mewled in pleasure, trying to arch it's back in reaction to the guilty pleasure the Angel of Space was gifting it. However, there would be no unrestricted movement. Pinned by both shoulders while also being ravaged by both tongue and hands, the Angel of Time found itself lost in a sea of thrill. Involuntarily, the Angel jerked its torso towards the other Angel, desperate to surround itself in its touch.

Having lost its grip, the Angel of Space abruptly dropped down, nearly smacking its chin into the other Angel’s chest. Its right hand slipped between the cogs in the Angel of Time’s shoulders, becoming caught in the serrated edges of the gears. It howled in agony from having its hand nearly ground into shreds, its face ripping partially apart to reveal some of the many fangs within. The Angel of Time screamed in unison, reeling from the pain of its pieces being brought to a screeching halt. Desperate, the Angel tried to wrench itself away from the other but to no avail. Each hard yank only thrust the arm deeper into the clockwork. Acting on instinct to salvage its limb and riding on a wave of panic, the Angel of Space phased its entrapped arm through the Angel of Time’s corporeal form, releasing the two from one another. The Angel of Space clutched its mangled hand with two of its other free hands, cosmic fluid dripping from the limp limb. The Angel of Time clawed at its shoulder, wincing as its gears began to restart. The two exchanged nervous glances, eyes wide and chests heaving. For a moment, neither spoke, their haggard breaths the only sound between them. 

Then, a soft chuckle. Cyan curved into crescents, the joyous sound of its laughter breaking the silence. The other joined in, reaching up to gently clasp the Angel of Space’s destroyed hand. Reversing the course of events singular to the current state of the hand, the Angel was soon healed.

But memories concerning its partner were not the only memories worth viewing. The Angel also liked to revisit learning how to exchange pleasantries akin to humans, a gift bestowed upon it from the child its partner had adopted. It supposed that the human boy was now their collective child, having grown accustomed to the mortal’s presence within its realm. Mentally, it scoffed at the thought of what this memory truly meant. How quaint, a child teaching its “parents” how to showcase affection. One would think that immortal, timeless beings would have a basic grasp of such simple gestures. Alas, these particular celestial creatures did not. On that day, the boy had taken both of its pudgy hands and cupped both Angels' faces. Those plump fingers with prickly, pearly nails squished their lips into a purse. The actions were absurd, drawing quizzical expressions from both Angels. The boy then had the Angels press their lips to their palms, to better practice the motion of kissing. Admittedly, it was fun, in an unorthodox way, to fully explore the rituals the humans underwent. It made for a brilliant memory.

And as always, memories were worth making. In the midst of reminiscing, the Angel of Time was swept back into the present through the warmth and tenderness of succulent neck kisses. Two arms slipped through the gap between its torso and its limbs, locking hands against its chest. Smiling, the Angel relaxed, tapping the top of the glass orb. In an instant, the orb elongated then pinged out of existence, returning to its point of origin. Pulling apart the interlocked hands, the Angel of Time turned to face its pursuer, smitten the moment the second their gazes met. Without a word, the two vanished, disappearing somewhere only they knew.

Some humans say eyes are like windows to the soul. And the Angel of Time would have to agree. Whether good or evil, a story was waiting to be told. Behind those eyes could lie a hideous soul, an ugly, black, debilitated soul or a wondrous, gentle, golden, lively soul. But what of those who do not harbor souls? What of those who are of another level? Behind these particular eyes in which the Angel of Time often gazed, it saw unyielding passion, unwavering loyalty, and insurmountable love.

It was in the here and now, while hiding away in their favorite place, that the Angel of Time realized it might not ever be able to look away from the window. Suspended in the air above a tear in the fabric of space, resting on its back with the other floating inches above, the Angel found itself lost in those beautiful cyan colored eyes. The littlest sparkle would form whenever the two made contact, leaving the Angel of Time to believe newborn stars took residence in those eyes. And what a lovely thought that was, to think that in every instance of a smile or a kind gesture, that it had a part in breeding new heavenly bodies. Except the only heavenly body it would ever want was here in its arms. Relishing in the moment, the Angel of Time felt slender fingers bury themselves in its golden brown hair, the face of the Angel of Space drawing in. Cyan colored eyes met neptune and gold, cyan forming thin crescents of delight. Softly, the sound of clattering wind chimes filled the air, the tender sound of the Angel’s laughter. The Angel of Time had relaxed into the Angel of Space’s arms, fully embracing the unexpected connection. Its arms slowly came up over the set resting on its hips, its hands resting on the other’s slender shoulders. Its hold was loose yet still firm, like the Angel could not bear to let its partner go but did not dare want to seem needy or possessive.

It felt so nice to be able to hold its partner at last, to keep the Angel safe in its arms. And it seemed the Angel of Space felt the same. The Angel wiggled into place, firmly settling against the Angel of Time while nuzzling its face into the other’s chest. The Angel of Time’s fingers played with the Angel of Space’s silken, wispy hair and it could not help a little kiss atop the other’s head. Having a physical body here, in its arms, finally together made any form of affection far too irresistible. 

After a brief stint of cuddling, the Angel of Space became a bit restless. It pushed itself up to a sitting position, separating itself from its beloved. Focused with an unclear goal in mind, the Angel leaned over and began drawing in the sky. Golden writings pierced the air, floating in front of both Angel's. After a few moments, it stopped, looking back at the Angel of Time with pride. Peering over the shoulder of the other, the Angel studied the depictions.

Written in the still air were archaic symbols that predated even the simplest of human languages. Those complex symbols translated into three words that used to hold no direct meaning to any of the Angels. But now those three words meant more to the Angels than anything the universe could ever give them.

_ Mu’ntua kuona nul.  _ Or in human English, ‘I love you’. 

Though the Angels did not quite comprehend the phrase in the same manner in which humans do, the two were well aware of the implications. The Angel of Time smiled, dropping a hand from the other’s shoulder. With its pointer finger, the Angel leaned over and began inscribing additional symbols beside the previously written statement. Jagged markings carved up sky, curving and forming deep ridges in the once unmarked space. Pleased with its work, the Angel of Time leaned back, letting the Angel of Space survey its addition. Ten interlocking hieroglyphs rested beside the first eight.

_ Reuna si’ nigora.  _ ‘For all eternity.’

Delighted, the Angel of Space crinkled its eyes, tugging its love back into its hold with all four arms. The two giggled among themselves, their voices forming a lovely song from the sounds they made. Their love would undoubtedly stand the test of time, if not outlive the universe itself.

And so the two Angels kissed once more and with far more passion than ever before. This time, the Angel of Space initiated the kiss. It was far less sudden and far more intimate. The Angel pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss. Two of the Angel’s hands caressed the other’s cheeks and while the other two held fast to its waist. With grace and poise, those two hands pulled the Angel onto its lap, then slowly drew its legs over its sides. The Angel of Time melted into it, letting the other manipulate its body in whatever fashion it so desired. A low-rising heat was building up in its lap, stimulated by that of the other Angel. It drew its legs in, gripping tightly to the Angel of Space’s waist as it arched its back. It felt smooth hands cup it from underneath, hoisting it up off of the ground. The two pressed their chests firmly together, holding one another as close as possible. The embrace was more than the Angel of Time had ever desired. At long last, it could finally hold its beloved and breathe in that wonderful scent of stardust and silver. To be wrapped in those four thin yet strong arms was something akin to a dream. Heavenly, peaceful and safe. Space may be an icy vacuum, but the Angel who lorded over it was far from cold and empty. The Angel of Space was alive in ways no human could ever begin to compare. Humans often liked to preach that their loves held metaphorical in their dreary eyes. However, the Angel of Space physically harbored celestial bodies within its corporeal form, which in the Angel of Time’s opinion, made it far superior. Twisting, spiraling misty galaxies spun amid the twinkling stars. Mixed gradients of radiant nebulas sparkled against the empty blackness of open space. Simply a masterpiece to behold.

Breaking the kiss one final time, the Angel of Time laid eyes on the other Angel’s stunningly gorgeous face. Something about the way the stars trapped within its corporeal form glimmered reminded it of the primitive mortal skies, prior to the existence of the universe. Those stars were new, the first of their kind, glinting and shimmering in the ethereal glow of the God of Creation. A pinch of those beautiful stars were now compressed into a slender, lithe body that the Angel could barely get enough of. And whenever the Angel of Space blushed, those lovely little stars brightened their glow and its aura darkened into a soft magenta hue. Looking into those entrancing cyan colored eyes, the Angel could see the lovestruck expression painting the other’s face. The shine in those lovely eyes illuminated the gentle spirit within. The Angel could hardly resist kissing its partner a third time but it needed to have control. Although, if the Angel of Space wanted the Angel of Time to release all of its inhibitions and relinquish control, it would be more than willing to do so. After all, everything it would ever do would be for its beloved.

Eyes half lidded, the Angel of Time could not hide the genial grin on its face. It knew what the other Angel was waiting for. With a gentle hand, fingertips graced the underside of a chin, pulling the other in. Their lips met, igniting that fantastical spark that made the two always go back for more. They melted into it as one set of the Angel of Space’s arms wrapped around the Angel of Time’s waist while the other rested on a set of shoulders. Hearts fluttered and soared. 

Every connection brought about a hurricane of new sensations which aided in humanizing these deities. Previously unknown thoughts and emotions were swirling overhead like storm clouds impatiently waiting to release a torrential downpour of passion, fondness, adoration, care and infatuation. Was this romance for forever, would their relationship last beyond the confines of their home? While the Angel did not wish to believe it would ever have to experience loneliness again in its lifetime, this unwanted, intermittent fear of a potential loss of kinship with its partner plagued its very being. Yes, the two were meant to live forever, but how long could—or would this scandalous behavior last? Angels were not supposed to fall from their affluent graces, much less indulge in humanistic behaviors. Yet...the contrary seemed to be true. Two Angels bound by the responsibilities gifted to them upon creation, two immortal celestial deities who preside over two of the four facets of reality, two of the four cornerstones of existence, more or less playing house without consequence? From what the Angel of Time knew based upon rulings set by its leader, the God of Creation, the future is set though the paths one takes to obtain that future are interchangeable. Life allows for choices to be made in the Space that that life occupies. Time permits those choices to be made, leaving that life to either flourish or diminish. But unlike mortals, these Angels would not be faced with the confines of Death. So, what of their futures then? Are the paths predetermined, are actions taken cemented in place? What of this newfound romance? Will it survive until the end of reality, the collapse of the universe, of the dimensions?

The Angel decided that it would. It enjoyed these feelings, no matter how weak or how strong. It craved the other’s touch far too much to let ancient ruling determine its path. The succulent taste of the other Angel was too delicious to ignore. Those tender kisses, those carnal lashings of the tongue, it was too valuable to give up. The pain of their mistakes through the exploration of their interests was as welcome as the softness of their embraces. Never would the Angel ever let its beloved go.

Holding tightly to two of the Angel of Space’s hands, the Angel of Time braced itself in preparation for the unknown, ready and willing to face the future and whatever trials it may bring.


End file.
